


Sex Holiday

by KittieHill



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Friends to Lovers, Frotting, Grumpy Sherlock, Holiday, Kissing, M/M, Protected Sex, Sunburnt Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: “You're sweaty,” Sherlock answered cautiously, “I can see you're – glistening,” he said as his voice dipped lower.John turned slowly, looking at Sherlock in shock “I – er – what?”“You heard me,” Sherlock replied, putting his now empty lolly stick in the bin, “You're glistening. Your skin, it's wet and incredibly arousing.”“Me?” John gaped, “You – you want to masturbate over me?”“Who else would I masturbate over?” Sherlock asked, clearly confused, “I don't like anybody else.”





	Sex Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [性爱假期](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327408) by [cindyzhao100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindyzhao100/pseuds/cindyzhao100)



> I've had chronic writers block for the last few weeks and nothing I tried helped. 
> 
> Then this popped out after talking to Goddess_of_the_Night. She also beta'd it because she's a babe.
> 
> It has now lovingly been translated by cindyzhao100 into Chinese and here's the link! http://archiveofourown.org/works/12327408

John reclined on the sun-lounger and sipped at the cool, delicious, and very alcoholic cocktail which sat beside him. The sun shone brightly down on the crystal blue water and John sighed happily as he looked to his left at a scowling, unhappy, and brightly sunburned detective.

“Everything alright?” John asked, smirking as he watched Sherlock reposition the towel around his shoulders.

They had only been on holiday for three days, and already Sherlock was angry and irritated. Apparently sitting on a beach on a sun-drenched island in the Canary islands didn't exactly fit his description of a fun-filled holiday. Sherlock had suggested a trip to a small, shanty town in Botswana so he could examine a certain type of algae which only grew in marsh land near the capital, but John had immediately said no; he had already had one brush with malaria during his tours of Afghanistan and didn’t fancy trying it again.

So they had compromised. Mycroft owned a small and extremely private condo which backed onto a stretch of beach which was, again, completely private. John wouldn't normally agree to use Mycroft and Greg's 'sex house', but he needed a break and some sun. He just insisted on changing the bedsheets before he slept in them.

“It's too hot,” Sherlock grumbled from under his umbrella. He had factor 50 sunscreen smeared all over him, but somehow had still managed to get sunburnt across his nose and shoulders the day before when they had ventured into town.

“It's lovely,” John smiled, taking another drink of his cocktail, “Have an ice lolly.”

“It's horrible. I hate it. There's nothing to do,” Sherlock sulked, kicking some sand and sighing dramatically, “Unless you like karaoke or binge drinking.”

“Which I do,” John answered, “I agreed we could go to Finland next time, like you asked. So just try and enjoy this.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Sherlock complained again before picking up his book and flicking at the pages, “And this is tedious, too.”

“Oh my god, stop complaining!” John sighed, “I'm on bloody holiday. All complaints will be ignored until we return to London.”

Sherlock muttered under his breath but thankfully remained silent, allowing John to enjoy his sunbathing and cocktail in peace.

* * *

An hour later and John was starting to feel the buzz of his cocktail, along with the prickles of heat from the sun. Looking down at Sherlock, he found the detective stretched out on his lounger fast asleep, still covered by the umbrella but looking content, if not a little sweaty.

John tore his eyes away from the stray drops of sweat which beaded across Sherlock's flat stomach, a few getting caught in the sparse hairs at his navel. John wondered, not for the first time, what Sherlock's skin tasted like…

Pushing the thought away, John cleared his throat and nudged Sherlock with his toe, “Hey, wake up. Time to go inside.”

Stretching with a confused grumble, Sherlock rubbed at his eyes, wincing when the pain from the sunburn kicked in. Gathering their belongings together, they headed back to the small house only metres away.

The house was pretty and tastefully decorated. There wasn't much to personalise it as Greg and Mycroft's home, just a few photos dotted around here and there (including one which looked post-coital which Sherlock immediately turned face down) and the lingering smell of Greg's cologne. John dropped their belongings into the patio and headed into the kitchen, filling up the kettle, and clicking on the button as he glugged a glass of cool water.

“You're drinking tea?” Sherlock asked, blinking quickly, “It's a thousand degrees outside.”

“That might be a little bit of an exaggeration,” John scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I suppose you don't want one, then.”

“No. I want that lolly you promised,” Sherlock grinned, heading to the freezer and opening the drawer with a happy groan at the cool air which whispered across his body. Pulling out the iced treat, Sherlock opened it and immediately began to suck, slurping loudly and drawing John's attention.

“Must you be so loud?” John asked.

“Why? It's only us here,” Sherlock replied, “I've done more annoying things in the past when it has just been us.”

“Yeah, well, I don't want to hear your slurps,” John replied, wondering if Sherlock would hear the waver of arousal in his voice.

Shrugging gently, Sherlock turned and headed to the air conditioning unit, turning up the cool air and then walking aimlessly around the living room. He had already deduced everything he could about the area, removing a few cushions with a grimace and a comment of “Don't ask.”

Now, however, Sherlock seemed antsy and irritable, unable to stand still.

“Sherlock, what's wrong?” John asked, looking over his shoulder as he made his cuppa.

“Hmm?” Sherlock replied, still sucking on his lolly, “Oh, nothing, just wondering whether I should masturbate now, or later.”

John almost spilled the hot water across his fingers in shock. Never, ever had Sherlock mentioned masturbation in his presence before; it was so completely out of character that John almost wondered if Sherlock had some sort of heatstroke.

“What?” he managed to splutter, stepping back from the counter and reaching for the towel to clean away the water.

“Masturbation. I'm sure you're aware of it,” Sherlock joked, rolling his eyes, “should I do it now or later? I usually do it before bed, but I find myself suddenly aroused.”

John took a deep breath, trying to steady himself -  _ what the everloving fuck was happening? _

“I – Right. Well…er…wait, why are you aroused?” John frowned, looking around the room. There was nothing at all arousing in the local area, and they were the only ones on the beach so it wasn't as though Sherlock had caught a glimpse of another bather.

“You're sweaty,” Sherlock answered cautiously, “I can see you're – glistening,” he said as his voice dipped lower.

John turned slowly, looking at Sherlock in shock “I – er – what?”

“You heard me,” Sherlock replied, putting his now empty lolly stick in the bin, “You're glistening. Your skin, it's wet and incredibly arousing.”

“Me?” John gaped, “You – you want to masturbate over me?”

“Who else would I masturbate over?” Sherlock asked, clearly confused, “I don't like anybody else.”

“Wait…you – masturbate over me a lot?” John said in shock, blinking and shaking his head.

“Yes. Well, I'm not sure what constitutes  _ a lot _ . I don't do it as often as you masturbate over me…but it's a fair bit,” Sherlock responded with a half shrug.

“I don't…wait! No I don't – do that...” John said in shock, immediately denying the accusation, “No...”

“Oh, be quiet, John,” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I'm not an idiot. I've seen you watching me, I've heard you pleasuring yourself, and I've smelled the bathroom after you have used it to pleasure yourself. Do you really think I'm blind to it?”

“No, but…I…” John said quickly, panicking before breathing, “You didn't say anything?”

“How would one go about raising the conversation?” Sherlock asked before imitating himself:  _ “Excuse me, John, would you please allow me to watch you touch yourself over me? There's a good chap.” _

John blushed, moving away from his tea to stand closer to Sherlock, “You could have raised it like you just did,” he laughed.

“Well, I thought it would be better outside of the flat,” Sherlock said with a smirk, “Plus, its exotic. Sun, sand, and sex. Isn't that what people go on holiday for?”

“Not always,” John grinned, “but I could make an exception.”

“Good,” Sherlock responded with a rumble, “So, John…may I watch you touch yourself over me?”

“God yes,” John replied, pulling Sherlock through to the bedroom.

* * *

John was the first through the door, and he quickly turned Sherlock to look at him. Suddenly aware of their height difference, John looked up and wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist, “Kissing?”

“Yes,” Sherlock replied.

“Touching?”

“Please.”

“Tasting?” John groaned.

“Definitely.”

“Sex?” he asked quietly, unsure about this last point. He hadn't brought supplies and he didn't know the exact details of Sherlock's sexual history - whether the man was a virgin or not. John didn't want to push Sherlock into something he may later regret when they returned to London.

“John?” Sherlock whispered, moving to nose at John's ear, “I want you around, on, and inside of me in every imaginable way possible.”

“Oh Jesus,” John groaned, thankful that they were clad only in their swimming gear. Their swimming trunks were distended with extremely obvious erections, and John pressed their bodies together as he closed his eyes and touched his lips to Sherlock's own, basking in the sweet taste of the ice lolly which remained.

Sherlock kissed back, opening his mouth with enthusiasm but no skill. John slowed them down, taking control before slowly introducing his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, caressing Sherlock's with slow and careful swipes which Sherlock rapidly picked up.

Leading him backwards, John pushed when Sherlock's legs bumped against the mattress, sending him toppling to lie down with John on top. Kissing Sherlock's lips and then down to his neck, John ran his hands across every inch of skin he could reach, careful of Sherlock's sunburn as his fingers moved down to undo the string of Sherlock's pants. It didn't take long before they were quickly kicked to the floor and John was working on his own, finally allowing their cocks to rub against one another slickly with a mixture of sweat, precome, and sun lotion.

“We have no supplies,” John said, wrapping his hand around both of their pricks, stroking them in a steady rhythm up and down, his hips rocking in time as he moved to suck a mark into Sherlock's neck possessively.

Pulling away from the kiss, Sherlock turned his head and pulled out the draw to the bedside cabinet. Inside he pulled out a new bottle of lube and a handful of condoms which he placed beside them on the bed.

“We can't use your brother's jonnys,” John giggled, “Sherlock...”

“They're mine,” Sherlock hummed, rolling his hips sensually, “I bought them yesterday in town.”

John must have looked confused because Sherlock continued, “I saw the way you kept looking at me. You looked like you wanted to devour me…I was hopeful,” he shrugged, but some insecurity bled through which was obvious to John.

“Oh,” John replied, reaching for the lube and pulling off the plastic seal, “Good thinking; I knew you were a detective for some reason,” he joked, watching as Sherlock's face crinkled in the most perfectly honest way.

John uncapped the lube and poured some over his fingers, ensuring the gel was warm before he slicked the inside of Sherlock's buttocks, allowing Sherlock to become used to the touch as he caressed his most intimate area. Sherlock shivered, his chest blooming with colourful red patches of arousal as he spread his legs wider. Once Sherlock relaxed, John slowly pushed his index finger inside, waiting for the clenching of muscles to cease before he began the slow, methodical stroking of Sherlock's insides. Sherlock was hot and incredibly tight, his insides seeming to massage John's finger as they clenched and swelled around his finger.

“Another,” Sherlock demanded, reaching up for a sloppy, yet heated, kiss.

John added a second, carefully pushing it inside and stilling at Sherlock's wince. Using his other hand, John continued to stroke their cocks together, rolling his thumb across Sherlock's tip and watching as the younger man moaned loudly. Smiling widely, John began a slow rhythm with his hands, letting Sherlock fuck into his fist whilst the other hand stroked and caressed his insides, occasionally brushing across his prostate.

“Oh God,” Sherlock moaned, biting his bottom lip.

“Yeah?” John said in response, continued to tease at Sherlock's prostate with gentle touches.

“Yes, John. Another,” Sherlock nodded, eyes glazed and lidded with pleasure, “please, need you inside me.”

“Jesus, be careful with what you say. I don't want to pop off,” John warned with a chuckle, lubing up his third finger as he cautiously pushed it inside, too. This was far tighter than the others and John had to push it in in stages, slowly feeling as his thick, broad fingers finally popped through the ring of Sherlock's hole.

“Oh god. Oh, John,” Sherlock moaned, head thrashing side to side, “Oh, John.”

“Nearly there,” John promised as he scissored his fingers. He needed to get inside Sherlock before he died of sexual frustration.

After a few more minutes of stretching Sherlock open, John finally felt confident that he was wide enough not to tear. Sitting back slightly, John took his hand away from Sherlock's cock and then pulled the other from inside his body, too.

Reaching for a condom, John opened the package with slight difficulty due to his greasy hands, but quickly rolled it down his length before adding lube and touching more to Sherlock's hole.

“You're sure?” John asked a final time, watching as Sherlock nodded quickly, reaching up for him.

Positioning his cock at Sherlock's entrance, John lowered himself over Sherlock's body, leaning on his arms as he began to slowly push inside. Despite the condom, John could still feel the hot, gripping walls around him and he groaned, dropping his head to rest against Sherlock's as he stilled his hips, “Holy fuck, that's good.”

“Yeah…yeah, keep going, please?” Sherlock pleaded, his eyes wild as he wrapped his arms around John's body, his hands resting on John's buttocks to pull him closer and thrust more of John's cock inside him.

“Ohhhh,” Sherlock wailed, eyes closing and mouth opening with pleasure as John bottomed out inside him, filling him completely with an overwhelming pain and pleasure that made every inch of him sing.

Both men stilled as they got used to the feelings. For Sherlock, he had never felt so full, but he also felt completely owned by John, completely wrapped in his embrace in a way he had never expected. Whereas for John, it was an overwhelming sensation of adoration for his best friend as he looked down at Sherlock's face, kissing his cheekbones and nose as he carefully began to roll his hips, thrusting millimetres at a time until Sherlock's body slowly relaxed around him.

John lifted his hips and thrust, finding Sherlock's prostate almost dead on with a single movement. Sherlock stiffened, cried out as his fingers dug into John's buttocks and he came hard between them, painting his stomach and John's with thin ejaculate which only helped to slick their bodies.

John looked down in shock, watching as Sherlock's hard cock continued to pulse hotly between them. Sherlock seemed completely blissed out, his eyes rolling as he grunted with pleasure.

“Fuck,” John moaned, thrusting harder and deeper, careful to keep his hips in position to continue pleasuring Sherlock, which seemed to work judging by the noises Sherlock was making. Half-formed words and grunted noises echoed around the room as John thrust harder and faster, fucking into Sherlock with abandon.

“John!” Sherlock shouted, “John kiss me, please, please kiss me!”

John bowed his head and took Sherlock's lips against his own, bullying his tongue into Sherlock's mouth with a groan as he felt his own orgasm building. It was intense, and promised to be incredible as his hips continued to work, “Sherlock…I'm close…I'm close.”

“Yes,” Sherlock nodded, now back to staring up at John in wonder, his cock still hard between them despite his earlier orgasm, “Yes, John, I want it. I want you to ejaculate into me.”

“Oh god,” John moaned, his cock twitching dramatically at Sherlock's precise language, “Say it again.”

“John...” Sherlock breathed, his cheeks now crimson red, his hair fluffy and sweat covered, “I want – you to – ejaculate inside me,” he said, each few words interrupted by a thrust.

John felt Sherlock's hand move down between their bodies, slipping to grab and stroke his cock quickly as his own orgasm crested once more.

“I'm going to…I – Oh fuck, Sherlock, I'm coming,” John cried out, his hand moving to entwine into Sherlock's free hand with a squeeze, “I'm coming...”

Freezing with a grunt, John spasmed as he came hard, pulsing hard into the condom in five thick, hard bursts whilst Sherlock clenched down on him in orgasm. More come splattered their chests as Sherlock orgasmed again, this time moaning with a choked-off sound.

John continued to thrust with juddering movements, his toes curled into the bedding as he attempted to extend his orgasm. Not wanting to cause Sherlock pain, John stilled his hips and bent to kiss Sherlock, their entwined hands beside them lovingly as John pressed kisses up Sherlock's sweaty forehead and temple.

“That was --” Sherlock began and then snorted, “I'm not sure I can describe how good that was.”

“I agree,” John smiled down, kissing Sherlock's lips as he carefully lifted himself off Sherlock's torso, holding the base of the condom and slipping his softening cock out of his lover. Sherlock's hole looked pink and well used, but with no visible damage, which helped John relax as he tied the condom off and threw it into the bin across the room.

“You're streaked with my ejaculate,” Sherlock commented, looking down at his own body, “As am I.”

“Indeed. You just love making a mess,” John grinned as he flopped down beside Sherlock on the bed and placed a hand on his hip, “You okay, though?”

“Very okay,” Sherlock nodded, turning to look at John, “are you?”

“I am,” John replied with a smile.

“You know what I would love right now?” Sherlock sighed, using his hand to draw shapes into the streaks of come on his belly, “An ice lolly.”

“Oh yes,” John moaned, “Go get one, then.”

“No, you get me one,” Sherlock scoffed.

“That's not fair. I did all the work,” John gasped playfully.

“Get used to it; I fully intend on enjoying our sex holiday,” Sherlock responded with a smug grin.

“Sex holiday?” John asked with an upturned eyebrow.

“Yes,” Sherlock said nervously, all pretence of smugness now leaving him.

“I think I could enjoy that,” John said with a hum and a nod, “Sex holiday.”

“With ice lollies,” Sherlock commented, gesturing to the door, “Chop chop.”

“Twat,” John grumbled, but got out of bed with a put-upon sigh, “Orange or blackcurrant?”


End file.
